


Auld Lang Syne

by VigilantShadow



Category: The Secret World
Genre: Fluff, I meant to post this on New Years, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 01:10:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13283760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VigilantShadow/pseuds/VigilantShadow
Summary: It's the first New Years Eve since Inanna joined her new team. She's used to New Years Eve going by in a flash of drunken dancing with team members she won't remember in the morning. Not this. Not sitting in her handler's office, watching the one of the Templar they've adopted into their team lament her luck with women. There's plenty of alcohol in the room, but something tells her that she won't be blacking out or getting lucky here.





	Auld Lang Syne

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic featuring Owen "Shamash" Mitchell (my character), and his extended team of agents. Originally he was assigned agents Gilgamesh and Inanna, Inanna because he was absurdly lucky and so might get around her tendency to end missions with dead handlers and Gilgamesh because he's supposed to keep an eye on Inanna. Along the way they pick up a merry band of misfits, absolutely none of whom are a part of the Illuminati. That won't stop him from making sure they come to his New Years party.

Inanna settled onto Shamash’s couch, champagne glass in hand. Not for the first time, she wondered how he’d managed to get ahold of said. It was nicer than any of the couches in her other handlers’ offices. She briefly entertained the notion that some of middle management bought uncomfortable seats on purpose so that people would want out of their offices faster, then decided it didn’t matter. Either way, the point stood that the couch had made Shamash’s office a good meeting place. Which was why there were currently six people scattered around the office holding glasses of various sizes and shape. She was fairly certain Shamash’s was meant for children, judging by the bright colors and the cartoon whale on it.

It wasn’t as wild as the parties Inanna usually attended on New Year’s Eve. She was half tempted to dip out and see if the company shindig down at the Labyrinth had good music or good booze. The other half of her, however, was watching what was going down on the other side of the room in silent amazement.

“It’s useless,” Ninshubur said miserably, taking a swig of her fourth or fifth cup of champagne. She was sitting in Shamash’s computer chair, making unhappy sniffling noises that Inanna had never thought she’d hear coming out of someone as stoic and…Templar-y as her.

“No!” Shamash insisted, patting her on the knee. He was awkwardly perched in front of her in a half kneel, his cup dangling out of his free hand precariously. “Of course not! Have you talked to her yet?”

“You wouldn’t be having this discussion if she had,” Hana piped in from her seat to Inanna’s right on the couch. This prompted another wave of sputtering from Ninshubur, something resembling _You can’t just talk to pretty girls_ or maybe _Hana you know why I can’t._ Hana settled back into the couch cushions, ignoring Shamash and Ninshubur in favor of watching the bubbles of her drink with a fascinated expression. Inanna eyed the Dragon robot, and she could see Gilgamesh doing the same from his seat on the right arm of the couch. Gilgamesh was nursing his drink like a defense mechanism.

“Why aren’t you getting involved in all this? I thought you and her were like. Besties,” Inanna asked. Hana shrugged.

“It isn’t my shift.”

“Therese,” Shamash insisted, patting Ninshubur’s knee again, “we’ve been over this. Zaha can’t like you back if you don’t tell her!”

“But she won’t if I do either! It’s doomed! I know the way this works.”

“You’re drawing on your experience with straight girls again, Therese,” Shamash pointed out, “Zaha is confirmed a lesbian.”

“What does not your shift mean?” Gilgamesh asked.

“Once a month, Owen takes over listening to Therese be upset that she doesn’t have a chance with Zaha,” Hana said matter of factly, “it’s a tradition at this point. I’m not sure what we’d do if she ever actually confessed.”

The door to Shamash’s office swung open and Bryn entered.

“Did I hear gay crying? Is it bonding time?” She asked, making her way over to Ninshubur. Shamash let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh thank god you’re back.”

“And I didn’t even get caught,” she added. Inanna frowned.

“Wait a second,” she said. Something had been bothering her all evening, but she had foolishly assumed she’d get an explanation at first and then had drowned the question in alcohol, “how are all of you even here?”

Hana raised an eyebrow.

“I assume Owen is here because it is his office,” she said.

“You know what I mean,” Inanna insisted. Shamash laughed.

“Oh, that! Well, I had all of them wear blue and told the guards over by the gates they were just new.” Inanna squinted at the three non-Illuminati in the room. They were all, in fact, wearing head to toe blue. Hana was even wearing an obviously cheap pair of blue-framed sunglasses.

“There’s…no way that would work,” Gilgamesh squinted, “they don’t have ID chips. And they’re known members of rival factions.”

“I mean, yeah! But in my experience, Pyramidion will let just about anything happen if he thinks it’s funny. So, uh, everyone just be really entertaining and hopefully I won’t get in trouble,” Shamash flashed a pair of finger guns. Inanna groaned and finished her champagne.

“None of this makes any sense,” Gilgamesh said, sounding a bit dumbstruck.

“Nothing has made sense all year,” Inanna replied.

“What time is it?” Ninshubur asked, “I haven’t been keeping track.”

“Neither have I,” Shamash admitted.

“12:05,” Hana answered.

“Wait, you can keep track of time?” Shamash asked.

“I’m a robot,” Hana offered. Inanna rolled her eyes. Hana might have been a machine, but they all knew she wasn’t quite naïve enough to miss the real question. After a moment she added, “you all seemed preoccupied. My apologies.”

“It’s fine, Hana. Pyramidion’s always talking about the subjectivity of time anyway, so…” Shamash raised his glass with enough force that some champagne sloshed over the side. “Happy new years!” Therese clumsily raised her glass, clinking it with Bryn’s. Inanna held hers out to Hana. There was a moment of silence, broken only by the collision of glass and plastic.

“Aren’t people supposed to kiss on New Years?” Hana enquired.

“I almost forgot!” Shamash set his glass down on his desk. “Therese, I know I’m no Zaha but,” he leaned over and planted a kiss on her forehead.

“You’re a dork is what you are,” Therese slurred.

“Well, if we’re doing kissing…” Inanna grabbed Hana’s collar and pulled her over, planting a kiss on the robot’s lips. She wasn’t going to be beaten by Shamash’s sappy bullshit. Bryn laughed and pecked Gilgamesh on the cheek for posterity.

“Here’s to another year of none of us getting brutally murdered!” Bryn said, a laugh to her voice. Everyone else followed suit, and Shamash pulled a full bottle of champagne from somewhere to continue the party. Inanna faked a laugh, eagerly accepting more alcohol. _Another year._ She wasn’t  sure she could imagine that sort of permanence. _Another year. Maybe._


End file.
